


Crowsong

by HerdOfTurtles



Series: My sad attempt at whumptober 2020 [9]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Gen, Rome is mentioned, Vikings, Whumptober 2020, he's so young he doesn't even call himself england yet, hecka young england
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerdOfTurtles/pseuds/HerdOfTurtles
Summary: Viking raidsWritten for Whumptober 2020, prompt: "Take me instead"
Relationships: Denmark & Norway (Hetalia)
Series: My sad attempt at whumptober 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949041
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Crowsong

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell how tired I am? Tags r like 3

Bell chimes echoed through the fog, setting weary eyes on the creeping, bending forest where those dead winter branches arched downward to the ground, reaching for the dry frost-bitten grass, swaying their grey arms in the stillness of the air. 

The chimes, ever so distant, dulled into nothing. 

Northumbria couldn't move. _It was winter. What were they doing in winter?_ It didn't seem possible, the men from the sea only ever came in the autumn months. Why was that bell, that terrible chime of death, ringing now in the starving winter? _They had nothing!_ The storage was dry, the monasteries were empty, and the forest animals were gone till warmer months. Even the friendly spring fae had gone back to their warm world, leaving the hostile winter sprites in their place. So what could those men of bones pillage? 

The fog was blinding, a curling cloud of white that blocked his sight. But he would hear them soon, he was far from the walls that enclosed his people, and the warmth was leaking from his skin and he knew that the walls weren't enough and there was nothing in his limited shrunken power that could be done to lift those people from the slaughter. The men from the far islands would devour the only thing they had left, just as they devoured everything else. 

Cold fingers wrapped around the scratchy cloth of his cloak and pulled it tighter. The cloth, the only green in the forest this time of year, was his only belonging left now. Everything he had kept in that small human settlement would be gone soon. He squeezed his eyes closed. Even the snow had stolen that green colour and the white was clinging to his sides.

He had to leave, there was nothing he could do as Northumbria. He would travel back down south to become Wessex, where the beasts hadn't yet found a way chew his people into rotting bones. 

_But if their personification was with them..._

Northumbria glanced back in the direction of the town, where the shouts of men were just barely beginning to reach through the snow to his blue-tinged ears. 

It... wouldn't work-- the faulty, desperate idea weaving together in his head. He'd never met the personification of those bloodthirsty beasts, and even if he did, earning respect from a beast was unfathomable. But... if he could? Like he did with his brothers, when they came to agreement to protect both of their people by bringing an end to their fighting? This personification was wild and untamed... but if he stole a chance speak with them, and make them stop, then he would save the kingdom of Northumbria from it's jaws.

His gaze hardened and he turned back towards the distant shouts of men, stumbling against the snow latching to his leather shoes and cloths. He could reach that distant town before it became waste, and find the savage men's personification before it vanished back over the ocean waves. 

He crawled into the arching grey woods, crouching under the fingers of the trees and clutching his cloak tight. The snow crunched and crumbled under the weight of each tiny footfall, and he covered much distance, but when nearing the human settlement the shouts and screams of his people began to pierce him and his body stumbled slower and slower, until the sight of men had him immobile as stone on the edge of the forest where he saw their hostile silver armor and wild coarse pelts with a closeness he'd never imagined.

Dripping red swords glistening in the white, leaving stark sanguine splatters in the snow. A raven cawed, clashing with the anguished cries of men and Northumbria huddled down further into the brush, thankful for the snow clinging to his green cloak. The filthy carrion eater didn't even wait for it's meal to die... it pecked away at still breathing bodies, fluttering like a mad fish out of water every time the heavy boot of an invader lumbered by.

Northumbria did his best not to look too closely at the bodies already staining the snow as he scanned the clearing for a short, humanesque creature, one who would be his age or so, with an overwhelming presence about itself. 

It didn't take long for it to appear. A short raider emerged, axe in hand, and a dull glint on their face.

And there was more than one.

Trailing after the first expressionless personification, another one with a grin and a spark in his eye followed, and Northumbria felt sick with how cheerfully he glowed and spoke to the other while his blade was still slippery with blood. But the main thing he noticed was that they were both older than him. Each had at least a foot of height to tower over his tiny five to six year old body.

The two looked like they were enjoying this.

His muscles tensed. He shouldn't have come back... he should have ran as soon as the bell chimed. This plan would fail and if the invaders killed him then the entire Heptarchy would be in danger, and if they didn't, they would continue to pillage and absorbe his people.

A few of his people were still alive here, but he'd have to abandon them. There wasn't too much he could have done for them to begin with, this plan was stupid, impulsive, and barely even thought out. Now he had to think about getting himself out alive. Northumbria mumbled a simple protection spell over himself and flicked his fingers with a small spark of warmth. 

As soon as the magic sunk in, the stoic personification threw a hand at the wild haired one, nudging rapidly before pointing directly toward Northumbria's hiding place.

The colour drained from his face, his lungs stopped and the vapour of his breath ceased to touch the air.

Something foreign and smooth was exchanged in formless syllables between the two, and the wild haired personification turned and barked something out at one of the humans. Soon the personifications, clad in animal furs and silver and charms, strode forward toward the brush. In their hair were woven bones, in their eyes were curious lights, but Northumbria knew their curiosity was for death alone and he would be the one to provide it if he couldn't think of something fast.

 _What could he offer?_

They would reach him and drag him out. Or they'd chase him down with their longer legs. Confronting them straight out might give him a faux sense of control on the situation, but on the other hand it also might give them an easy target. _But he had no time._ It didn't matter what he did, he had no way of knowing what would happen. He shouldn't have even come in the first place.

Before he could make up his reeling mind or those black fur clad raiders could yank him from his feeble shelter of twigs, he lept up straight from his hiding place and clutched his cloak, wrapping it snug around him as he met the gaze of those now wide eyes. 

An uncertainty replaced that stony look, and a hand slowly extended to him, as if offering an invitation. A short sentence, in a language separate from his, lit a gold spark to the tip of that hand. Northumbria recognized it as magic. He kept his nervous and rigid posture.

"You can speak properly now, small nation. Why did you come here?" 

He could feel the saliva in his throat slide to the back of his mouth with his words. Odd magic sat on his tongue, tasting metallic and earthy. 

"How long does it last?" Northumbria swallowed, watching their idle movements like a deer would a hunter. 

"Not long. Answer us quick." 

They were talking to him, he didn't know for how long, but this was one step further than his initial poorly planned idea, so he needed to make the most of this. 

He looked down at the snow and faltered over the first question on his mind. "...Why are you killing my people."

Silence rose in the frigid and neither personification spoke for a while. Then, softly, the other started.

"... this is Norway, I'm Denmark," the personification ran a hand through his wild hair, displacing its tangles further, "what about you? What do you represent?" 

"I'm Northumbria right now... but I am many places." 

"Great, well..." Denmark paused, "Northumbria... yeah... being a nation is complicated, and we all have different... things we need to do in order to stay alive sometimes you know?"

Murder was staying alive? Hunting, working with his people, defending, and running were all staying alive, not murder. Northumbria bristled and clenched his fists, which were still knotted in his green cloth. "But my people did nothing to you! How could they possibly be a threat? You attack small villages and monasteries, not warriors!"

"It's about colonisation, Northumbria. Land, expansion, resources. It keeps us alive, lets us grow faster." 

"If... if it's about colonisation... could you maybe... only take me, and stop hurting my people?"

"I'm afraid you don't understand yet. Maybe you'll be one of us one day, though."

Northumbria fought a wave of nausea. The roots at his scalp had turned blond months ago, _and that was the goal._ They wanted to rule him like Rome had.

**Author's Note:**

> _I'll add some proper history notes later r something. Heptarchy was waht England used to be he probably changed his name depending on where he was until Alfred united England. Also Denmark, Norway, and England were all one empire for a short bit cause Denmark ruled it all so that's cool._
> 
> _Gn I wana sleep_
> 
> OK SO NOW TIME FOR REAL HISTORY NOTES:  
> Heptarchy: consisted of Northumbria, Mercia, East Anglia, Essex, Kent, Sussex and Wessex, which were all separate kingdoms of similar culture and language. The vikings successfully colonised all but Wessex, which Alfred the Great defended, and then eventually expanded his kingdom out to the other territories, drove the vikings out, and united the land into England. In this way, I think it would work similar for England as it did for America with the original thirteen colonies; they were mostly separate, yet they only had one personification.  
> As for the Winter attacks! One year, the vikings camped out on the coast and nearby islands so they could attack in the winter before the Anglo saxons had time to prepare for another attack. Like bruh... give 'em a break-- but hey, points for cleverness I guess?  
> And cause I'm an etymology nerd i'll throw it out that English is very similar to oldnordisk.


End file.
